Песни доброй-старой Англии - Могила Любимой | Текст песни

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\"Cold blows the wind to my true love
Аnd gently drops the rain;
I only had but one true love
And in Greenwood she lies slain
I'll do as much for my true love
As any yound man may -
I'll sit and mourn along her grave,
For a twelvemonth and a day\"

\"When a twelvemonth and a day was past
The ghost began to speak -
- Why sitest here along my grave
And will not let me sleep?
- There is one thing that I want, sweetheart,
There is one thing that I crave,
And that is a kiss from you white lips -
Then I'll go from your grave\"

\" - My lips they are as cold as clay,
My breathe smells earthly strong.
And if you kiss my cold-clay lips,
Your days they won't be long.
Go fetch me water from the desert
And blood from mountain stone,
Go fetch mе milk from the fair maid's breast
That young men never had known\"

'Twas dawn in June in garden
Where you and I would walk;
The finest flower that ever I saw
Is withered to the stock;
The stock is withered and dried, sweetheart,
But flower'll ne'er be torn,
And since I lost my own true love -
What can I do but mourn?

\"When shall we meet again, sweetheart,
When shall we meet again?
Ere the oaken leaves that fall from the trees
Are green and spring up again...\"

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